


you and i'll be safe and sound

by laadynaty



Category: The Daevabad Trilogy - S. A. Chakraborty
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Married Life, Post Book 3: The Empire of Gold, Spoilers for Book 3: The Empire of Gold, Trauma, and Ali is the supportive husband we all know he'd be, they are soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laadynaty/pseuds/laadynaty
Summary: Nahri faces her fear of water.
Relationships: Nahri e-Nahid & Alizayd al Qahtani, Nahri e-Nahid/Alizayd al Qahtani
Comments: 19
Kudos: 25





	1. just close your eyes, the sun is going down

**Author's Note:**

  * For [socordia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/socordia/gifts), [munazza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/munazza/gifts), [bachdiva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bachdiva/gifts), [unorgaynized](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unorgaynized/gifts), [bananabreadbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananabreadbee/gifts), [Musogato](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musogato/gifts), [Twinkleterson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinkleterson/gifts), [AnUnknownForeignBeauty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnUnknownForeignBeauty/gifts).



> For Luisa, obviously, and for my Potato Heads friends <3
> 
> (spoilers for The Empire of Gold. english is not my first language, so please ignore any mistakes)

“I want to try again.”

The idea resurfaces in her mind as Ali’s hands run through her hair, pouring the warm water from the basin and washing away the rose soap he used to wash her hair. The feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp makes her eyes flutter closed.

“Try what?” Her husband stretches his arm outside the tub and puts down the basin. When he is settled on the tub’s edge, Nahri lays back on his chest with a sigh. She looks up at him.

“To go underwater.” His yellow-black eyes are soft as he puts a lock of her hair behind her ear.

It was a routine of theirs: they would take baths together, and Ali would always help her wash her hair, for she couldn’t submerge, not even in their tiny tub. Not after what had happened in the Nile. Every time she tried, a wave of panic swept through her, blocking her air passages, and not even her Nahid abilities could ease the pounding of her heart at the mere feeling of not being able to breathe.

“Are you sure?” he asks, squeezing her bare shoulders. One of her favorite aspects of their marriage was how Ali never seems to _want_ to get his hands off of her. They were always touching somehow: Ali absentmindedly would seek her hands while walking her to the hospital; he would unconsciously trail his fingers through the inside of her wrist, tracing the lines of her scar, while they sit at their desk, Ali reading his scrolls and Nahri, the new medicine books he would fetch her during his travels; he would lazily caress her face as she fell asleep on his shoulder every night. When she told him that she’d love to receive back massages after tough days at the hospital, Ali decided to treat her innocent suggestion as a personal task, putting his beautiful hands to even better use. “I’m in a competition with myself to be the best husband I can for you”, he told her once. _He is certainly doing a great job_ , she ponders now, his fingers delightfully pressing her tense muscles. It’s almost pleasant enough to make her forget what she has saying.

“Yes.” Nahri turns around in the bathtub, and swings her right leg so she can straddle him. She knows he is stalling, a preoccupied expression settling on his face as she touches their foreheads. She stills remembers the last time she tried to submerge in the bathtub, one month before. She had burst out of the water as soon as it closed above her head. Then she had broken into tears, a mix of panic and disappointment engulfing her and threatening to break her in two. Ali had immediately wrapped his arms around her, whispering soft words in Arabic to ease her anxiety, like he had done every single time before.

A shiver runs through her body as she considers the possibility of failure again. _No_ , she scolds herself. _I am ready. I can do this._

“What makes it different this time?” he asks, caressing her cheeks. A fair question.

“You,” she replies, looking at his beautiful face, suddenly shy. She had always tried to do it alone, like pretty much everything in her life. She would always ask him to wait outside of the bathtub, as she tried to dive into the water. Maybe it’s time to accept the fact that she needs help for something. Maybe it’s time to acknowledge that asking for help is not a weakness. Maybe it’s time to return the blind trust he has on her. “I want you to stay. To help me.”

Ali draws back, and looks at her with surprise all over his expression. He appears to be about to speak, but now that she finally said those words, now that she gathered courage to be vulnerable about this delicate issue that pesters her mind, she can’t find it within herself to stop talking.

“I used to _love_ swimming. It used to bring me peace. And I want to feel that way again.” Nahri takes a deep breath, taking in his salty scent, mixed with her rose soap. His scent had become her favorite smell – just like with his yellow eyes, she had learned to love and cherish every single piece of him. “I want to swim with _you_. In your river. I… I know it’s yours, it’s your refuge, but I… wanted to be part of that, too.”

It’s the first time she tells him that. How she feels every time he goes to his river to swim, to travel through the currents, to visit other places, while she is stuck in Daevabad, stuck with the anxiety that grows inside her mind, urging her to go with him, but making sure she knows that she _can’t_ join him. Not in this.

Ali is watching her with open affection. Whatever he sees in her face – probably the sorrow that she feels whenever she thinks of sharing all those experiences with him – makes his eyes soften even more, and he touches their foreheads again.

“Nahri.” Ali’s hands snake to the back of her neck. “My friend. My dearest partner. My love.” Nahri smiles, tears filling her eyes at the tenderness in his voice. “Every part of me belongs to you. Including my river”, he smiles widely, kissing her cheek, then the other. “And _you_ are my refuge.”

She opens her mouth to reply – _you’re missing the point_ –, but he continues: “If you want this, if you feel ready, then I am here for you.”

“Will you help me?” Nahri asks, feeling small. She stares at him pleadingly, as if he could stop her rising panic each time she goes underwater. She knows he can’t. But she needs him to believe that, this time, _she_ can.

“Of course.” Ali pecks her on the lips. “Of course”, he repeats. _How could I think otherwise? He will always be here for me._ Nahri’s heart is bursting with joy and expectation.

“Okay.” Nahri turns around again, moving towards the other end of the tub.

She positions her feet so they can serve as an anchor when she goes down, and reaches back to wrap Ali’s hands on hers. She slowly, carefully lays back, the water coming up to her chest and chin. Then she pauses, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, her eyes staring at the ceiling. Ali’s hands are firm around hers, and she can feel his legs right below her head, ready to support her head. He appears in her sight, and this time his expression is soft and encouraging.

“Breathe in.” She does as he says. “Now breathe out.” His voice sends a rush of warmth through her body. “I believe in you.”

He _believes_ in her. _She_ believes in herself. This is all she needs right now.

Nahri takes another deep breath and submerges.

The murky water strikes her face in waves, covering her nose, her mouth, and she quickly snaps her eyes shut, as if to prevent the knowledge of being underwater. Nahri feels the spasm of terror creeping up on her, and shuts down the urge of opening her mouth to scream and the need of breathing through her nose to settle her racing heart. Behind her closed eyelids, she can almost see the ghouls reaching out to her.

Before the memories of decayed hands and milky eyes overcome her, though, she directs her focus to Ali’s hands, which are _everywhere_. His hands are no longer clasped is hers: now his fingers are tracing her features, then combing her hair, then running through her spine… When she opens her eyes, she finds his, right above the surface, grounding her _there_. She’s not traveling the Nile. She’s at _their_ house, in _that_ moment, with _him_.

Nahri exhales softly, her heartbeat steadies, and bubbles swim through the water to blow up in the surface of the tub. Then she smiles, and slowly moves towards the surface, taking her time to marvel at the feeling of the water rushing past her face.

As soon as she breaks through the water’s surface, Nahri breathes in the cool night air, and starts laughing. “I did it!” she screams. For barely ten seconds, yes, but _still_. It was more than she ever could before. And it felt _good_. When she was on the verge of losing control, like in all those others attempts, she managed to get it back. _Small steps_ , Nahri thinks. She can’t help but smile widely at Ali as she turns around to meet his gaze.

“You did it!” Ali is laughing too, and when he reaches out to cuddle her in his arms, she goes happily, nuzzling her face on his neck. “I _knew_ you could do it.”

She breathes in his scent again, tangling her fingers in his short hair, and whispers: “Thank you. For your faith in me. For being my anchor.”

“Anytime, my love,” Ali whispers. He squeezes her tight, leaning back on the tub once more. Nahri can almost fell asleep like this, sheltered in his arms. It comes to her mind, suddenly, that _this_ is her refuge. This is her safe space.

“Nahri?” Ali’s voice brings her back from her daze.

“Yes?” she replies, the sound muffled by his neck.

“I am very proud of you,” he says. “But...”

“What?” Nahri draws back to look at him, confused by the hesitation in his tone.

“Can I still wash your hair?” Ali smiles smugly at her.

Nahri scoffs, and jumps back at him, crashing her mouth on his.

There is not much talk after that.


	2. you'll be alright, no one can hurt you now

“I’m not so sure about this anymore.”

Three months after her first conquest at the bathtub, Nahri looks down at the clear water from the palace’s canal. She and Ali are seated side by side at the grass right before the clearing, where the water cascades up to the palace’s top, with their legs hanging from the canal’s tiled edge, pants rolled up to their knees, their feet splashing the water. The misty clearing in front of her is not as deep as the Nile, she knows, but she can’t help but feel scared all the same.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel ready yet. We can go back home.” Ali intertwines his fingers on hers and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. His voice echoes through the pruned trees, a grateful reminder that they are alone. When they’d arrived at Daevabad’s notorious ziggurat earlier that day, Ali asked the guards, who usually are positioned throughout the outer walls, to give them some space. They gladly welcomed the idea, looking anxious to escape the crushing heat brought by the sun, high in the sky.

At first, when Nahri had finally felt ready to replace their safe bathtub for something more challenging and deeper to proceed with her personal mission, she suggested his river. But his river is too wide, too deep, too _wild._ Ali just shook his head, and said: “One step at a time.” Nahri was upset, but later she understood, and agreed. This was not something she could rush. _Small steps_ , she had told herself that day in the bathtub. First someplace calmer, but deeper, and then the river.

She couldn’t leave Daevabad to seek other places for her try-outs, so they discussed the possibilities and decided the next attempt would be on the palace’s canal. Thankfully, the palace is now empty; each tribe has yet to send their ambassadors for the next meeting, which will be held in three weeks’ time.

After the massive doors had closed behind her this morning, Nahri felt the palace walls welcoming her back, like the touch of an old friend. Even though she visits the palace often, to accompany Ali in meetings with politicians, she still misses its comforting magic every day. She wouldn’t trade their cozy house at the shafit district for anything, but the palace is still very dear to her; it’s her ancestors’ creation, after all, and its magic pumps in the rhythm of the blood on her veins. As Nahri strode across the corridor, her hand wrapped around her husband’s, the palace’s magic boosted her confidence, and she felt braver and more ready than she’d ever been.

But now that Nahri is finally facing the canal, she doesn’t feel _that_ brave anymore.

_This will be different_ , she thinks as she stares at the vast blue ahead of her. Their tub was small, and there was always a part of her body touching its bottom, reminding her that she could easily reach out, if it was too much for her to take. But the canal is something else. It’s almost like it has life of its own, churning around her feet. _Maybe it has_ , she considers, thinking about how the palace still calls for her. _Maybe it’s also connected to me_. However, it’s still much deeper than her bathtub, and her mind can’t seem to brush past this information.

Nahri knows from experience that she can’t touch the canal’s muddy bed – she had already jumped in it, eleven years before, in a rush to save the same man she now calls husband. The scene is still vivid in her mind, like it has happened this very day: his arms jutting out from the canal’s surface, which made her think that he was drowning. She hadn’t known it was _him_ , back then – the rude prince she met when she’d first arrived in Daevabad was still fresh in her mind – but looking back now, she feels nothing but gratitude. After all, it was her bold dive in the canal that allowed them to have an actual conversation and, later, become close. Well, that _and_ his apology for being so rude to her before. 

_How symbolic it is, that it was_ water _that made us bond for the first time._ Nahri can’t help but marvel at the thought. And now, after everything they’ve been through, she is back at that same spot, with him by her side, to help her defeat her fears, and to save her, if need be. Overwhelmed by her emotions, Nahri lifts her gaze from the pool to let it fall upon her husband.

Ali is now looking at the water, with such fondness that makes her heart flutters in her chest. _He’s in his element here_. Ali had told her before that he was always drawn to water, since his childhood; but now, with the fire extinguished from his blood, and the ancient marid magic remarkable in his veins, he looks completely relaxed, and the water under him seems to mirror his state of mind. It’s almost like he can finally be at peace, away from other djinn, such calmness in his face that she only sees when he’s alone with her. “I’m not one of you anymore,” he told her earlier in their marriage, after a particularly stressful meeting, when she’d pointed out the guarded look on his face during the whole night. “I have to be careful all the time. They don’t like me for who I am.”

_I like you for who you are_ , Nahri repeats her answer to him in her mind, remembering how his eyes filled with tears right before kissing her. _I hope it’s enough._

Ali turns to her and catches her staring.

“Nahri?” he asks her, and Nahri blinks, realizing that she didn’t answer him. “Do you wish to leave?”

“No,” she says quickly, before that treacherous corner of her mind can muster up enough excuses to make her give up on the idea. “I just need a bit more time.”

“Of course.” Ali brings her hand up to place a kiss on her palm. “Take your time, my love.”

They sit in silence for a while. Nahri closes her eyes and turns her focus to her breathing, summoning her Nahid blood to cooperate and calm down her nerves.

“You know,” Nahri breaks the silence, looking at him again. “I was kind of hoping that, once we were here, you would throw me in the water and spare me of that decision” she tries to joke, but her voice cracks.

“Well, if you wanted me to do that, you could’ve said earlier.” Ali is smiling now. He moves to wrap his arms around her waist and squeeze his nose in her neck, ripping a laugh out of her. There was a time where Ali would be abashed by her words, by the thought of Nahri believing he would ever take away her choice. Now, he just knows her too well. He can always see right through her, doesn’t matter how hard she tries to hide her fears from him. She doesn’t even _want_ to hide from him anymore. Not after opening up her whole self for him to see, and receiving only love and support in return.

But she can damn well try to ease her own anxiety with stupid jokes.

“Can’t you just… pretend you’re drowning so I can jump in this pool without a single thought and pretend I am saving your ass?” she mutters numbly, still wrapped in his arms. “It would be just like when we first met.”

“I… _can_ , but then it wouldn’t feel like your choice either.” Ali presses his chin on the top of her head. “And I think you want it to be your choice. You want to be brave.” Yes, no use for trying to hide anything from him. She considers the pool under her feet again. Until now, the memories of that night still didn’t catch up on her, but she can already feel her throat closing up in anticipation. 

“I want to, it’s just...” she whispers, suddenly shy because of her own weakness. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Nahri.” His hands cup her face, urging her to face him. She stares at those beautiful eyes – weird, yellow, but _his_ – and waits for him to continue. “You drove a dagger through your heart. You brought magic back to Daevabad. You moved this whole island and its mountains. I think you can do pretty much anything you want to.”

Nahri weighs his words. She really did all that. And also… Nahri had been submerging in their bathtub for three months now, and it doesn’t even bother her anymore. She can do this. She’s not alone. She has her anchor.

“Okay.” Nahri takes a deep breath, and straightens up. “I am ready.”

“Are you sure?” He studies her face, and she knows he’s searching for any sign of doubt. _I believe in you_ , he told her earlier, _but the most important thing is that you believe in yourself_.

“Absolutely.” She forces her voice not to waver.

“Okay,” Ali says, kissing her nose, and draws back. “I’ll go first.” She nods.

Nahri watches as Ali unwinds his blue turban, folding it neatly on his lap, and puts it aside. His hair is cut short at the sides of his head, curls starting to grow on the top of his head. Her eyes drink him in, drifting to the scales that cover the scars on his chest as he pulls his shirt over his head and stands up. Nahri lets herself be distracted by the sight.

And well, from her position, still seated by the edge, she has indeed a _great_ sight. It’s surely helping to replace the anxious flutter in her stomach for _something else_.

But then Ali eases himself in the water and stretches his arms towards her, and she knows that it’s time.

“I won’t let you drown,” he says, his eyes piercing her soul. “Never again.”

Before she loses her new-found courage again, Nahri takes off her shawl, grabs his hand and slides down from the canal’s edge, entering the pool.

The water hits her like a punch, engulfing her whole body up to her neck, and she tries to jump up, to avoid the water on her mouth. It’s so _cold_. Nahri can feel the fright rising faster and faster inside her, so intense, even though she’s trying to fight it. Her breathing is coming out of her month in puffs, and her heart is beating like crazy in her chest, and her feet can’t reach the bottom, and there are tears in her eyes, and she can’t see anything because everything is _blurry_ , and–

“Nahri”, she hears a voice. “Breathe in. Now breathe out.”

“I’m trying,” she manages to choke out. “I can’t.”

Nahri feels movement in the cold water, and her panic rises even more. _No, no, no, not again._ She struggles in the water, trying to keep her head out of reach, as she feels the ghouls in the Nile coming to swallow her down…

“Nahri, you’re not in the Nile. We’re in Daevabad.” She hears the voice again. “They’re not here. It’s just me.”

She tries to cling to those words, to the hand that she knew is still wrapped around hers, but her body is numb. She can’t feel anything. She can’t see anything. There is movement again, a noise as if someone is getting out of the water.

“I’m taking you out.” Nahri suddenly feels her body being pulled up, and she snaps her eyes open, scared. Her vision straightens and then, to her utter panic, Qandisha is right in front of her.

“NO!” Nahri screams, pulling her hand away from the ifrit, and falls back on the water.

“Nahri!” It’s the last thing she hears before the water closes above her face.

It only takes one second. One second for her body to freeze completely, to forget how to use its healing magic unconsciously. One second for all those memories to come back to her mind in a snap. Qandisha laughing at the sight of her despair. Three ghouls dragging her down, until her back hits the Nile’s bed. The cold water swirling around her, blocking her air passages. Memories of her beloved ones in Daevabad as she feels the strength leaving her body. Memories of her Afshin, drowned by the same ifrit that is drowning _her_.

It only takes one second for Nahri to give up fighting and for her body to sink.

But then, as she lets herself drown – her eyes shut tight, her arms and legs motionless as the reminiscent air from her lungs escapes from her mouth in a bubbling despair –, she feels something shift in the water.

A calmness suddenly takes place where before was chaos. The canal seems to still, and she feels the touch of the water in her cheeks, like a greeting from a friend, like a kiss. Like when she pulled the mountains close to separate Daevabad from the lake, when Ali’s magic joined hers to calm the waters.

_Ali_. He is here. It was _his_ voice before, when she was too lost in her own panic to comprehend.

She can feel his magic coaxing hers. Like a caress, the water runs slower through her body, making the blood pumping in her ears flow to the rest of her, and the pressure in her head decreases. That’s when her brain takes back the control, and that old survival instinct, so dear to her, kicks in. Her healing abilities suddenly awaken from its numbness, and her limbs stop aching, her fire magic warms up the cold water around her. Nahri blindly starts moving towards the surface, hoping to meet her husband halfway.

Water had meant loneliness once. Water had also meant death. But now, lured by the touch of his magic, Nahri remembers that water also means Ali. And Ali will always mean safety. He will always be her refuge.

As if he can read her thoughts, his hands find her waist, and he pulls her up.

They break through the surface, and Nahri gasps, air gladly entering her body again. She feels his hands on her face, pushing her hair away.

“ _Nahrinahrinahri_ ” Ali is saying, his fingers desperately caressing her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she speaks, her eyes still closed. “I shouldn’t have let go.”

“Nahri, look at me.” He sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. “ _Please_ , look at me.”

Nahri opens her eyes carefully, her vision clearer now. Ali is studying her, his eyes passing restlessly through her body, as if searching for wounds. Which is ridiculous, given her healing abilities. It instantly comes to her that Ali himself might have traumas from that night – she had died, after all. He’d held her lifeless body on his arms.

She feels awful.

“I’m alive,” Nahri says, touching his cheek. “It’s everything okay. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to trigger any bad memories in you.” Her breath quickens again, and she’s almost crying.

“Breathe in,” Ali says. Nahri draws in a sharp breath. “Now breathe out.” She lets the air out from her mouth, and keeps her eyes locked in his. _He is here_ , she forces her mind to acknowledge his presence, her fingers touching his features as if she doesn’t have them memorized. _He’s not lost under the waters of the Nile._

“Don’t worry about me.” He pulls her close. “Come here.”

Nahri snuggles to his chest, relief overcoming her as he closes his arms around her frame and rests his cheek on the top of her head. She keeps drawing in deep breaths, to steady her heartbeat, and she feels him doing the same. Ali’s heart is thundering in her ear.

“I thought I was ready,” she mumbles, self-conscious about her failure – _another_ failure. “I should’ve known I would fail again.”

“Don’t think of it as a failure,” His voice, filled with affection, reverberates in his chest. “You are being so brave. Today it didn’t work, but that’s alright. We’ll try again tomorrow.” Ali seems to pause and consider his words. “Or you don’t need to try again at all, if it’s what you desire.”

She stays silent after this. The water is calm and warm around their bodies, and Nahri wonders if she’ll ever be able to float like this, with her husband, in his river, or even in the Nile. _Of course you will_ , she tells herself. _One day._

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” Nahri finally speaks. “Not of the water. Not of the Nile” she completes under her breath. She doesn’t want to keep having nightmares about the place she was named after.

“I know,” Ali hugs her tighter. “I know.”

“I still want to try again.” One thing is for sure, Nahri _is_ determined. “But not today.” She feels Ali nodding in agreement.

They stay there, hugged, floating together in the water. Ali slowly moves to swim backwards, his legs kicking in steady strokes, his arms still clutching her close. Then he starts to hum quietly, the sound resonating in her ear. Nahri closes her eyes, lulled by his soothing mumble. After her chaotic breakdown, her body is heavy with exhaustion, and she gladly welcomes the pleasant vulnerability that comes with letting Ali calm her mind.

“How are you feeling?” he asks after a while, veiled concern in his voice.

“Still edgy,” she answers. “But much better now.” Nahri lifts her head from his chest and seeks his eyes, a small smile on her lips. “Why did you stop singing?”

Ali scoffs, but smiles back at her. “That was hardly singing.”

“I thought it was beautiful,” Nahri replies, nuzzling his neck. “Can we just… stay like this for a bit longer?”

He kisses the top of her head.

“We can stay like this as long as you want, Nahri.”

***

At her request, they return to the canal every morning of the next two weeks. Each time, they spend hours adrift, floating together in the canal. Each time, Nahri submerges for one second more than the previous attempt, Ali’s hands clasped in hers, ready to pull her up if necessary.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Ali asks her when she says that she wants to stay underwater longer. Nahri was being patient until now; but after so many days without any terrible memory resurfacing in her mind, she feels ready to be just a bit bolder. She still can’t open her eyes when she’s down there – the fear of seeing Qandisha again restrains her –, but by now she’s accustomed to the peaceful flow of the water, calmed by Ali’s magic.

“Come down with me.” Nahri strokes his beard. “Please.”

After more failed attempts to talk her down, Ali agrees to submerge with her.

With her eyes closed, Nahri braces herself, hugs his neck, and nods for Ali to pull her down. The pool closes above her head, warmed by her magic. This time, she doesn’t rush to swim back up to the surface. Instead, she marvels at how the water whirls around them, how Ali’s magic tangles with hers, easing her mind.

Nahri is very conscious of his hands on her hips, his body pressed against hers, his beard tickling her neck. Then, his hands drift to her face, coaxing her eyes to open. And when she does, all she sees is him.

Ali is beaming. His scars are glowing, and the water is rushing in patterns around his body, like it’s bound to him in a way that she can’t quite comprehend. _He looks beautiful down here_ , she thinks, as her fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck. This is the image that she wants to hold on to whenever she submerges: her dearest person in the world, holding her close to him, in the place where he feels safest. He is smiling widely at her, his yellow eyes shining brightly, and she can’t help but smile back.

When Nahri starts to run out of air, his lips find hers, and he breathes in her mouth, filling her lungs again. Then Ali kisses her deeply, pulling her closer, and Nahri feels like drowning again, but in an entirely new way. She clings to him as the water around them hums and swirls, seeming to echo his heartbeat, fast under her fingers.

They start laughing when they resurface, limbs tangled, spinning in the water.

“You did it again.” Ali whispers. “You conquered your fear.”

“I did it,” Nahri repeats, still giddy at the thought. “It was about time.”

“You can’t rush progress.” He moves closer to drop a kiss on her temple. That lights up a thought in her mind.

“Thanks for that kiss, by the way” she teases him with a smug smile. “It was truly helpful.”

Ali laughs openly.

“You could’ve suggested it before.” His eyebrow quirks up. “I would’ve gladly obliged.”

“I’m suggesting it _now_.” Nahri leaps on him, and submerges them again.

As she kisses him repeatedly underwater, the canal’s sounds rushing in her ears, the taste of salt in his mouth, Nahri knows that right now she is invincible.

**Author's Note:**

> song (title): safe & sound (taylor swift)


End file.
